Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

A dragon without its rider is a tragedy. A rider without their dragon is dead. —Article One, Section One The Dragon Rider’s Codex

“I’m not going to die today.”

“Stay the hell away from Xaden Riorson.” The air rushes from my lungs. That name… “That Xaden Riorson,” she confirms, fear lacing her gaze. “He’s a third-year, and he will kill you the second he finds out who you are.” “His father was the Great Betrayer. He led the rebellion,” I say quietly. “What is Xaden doing here?” “All the children of the leaders were conscripted as punishment for their parents’ crimes,”

“Stay. Away. From. Him.” “Noted.” I nod.

“Don’t die, Violet. I’d hate to be an only child.”

I will not die today.

gallop. If I panic, I’ll die. If I slip, I’ll die. If I… Oh, fuck it. There’s nothing more I can do to prepare for this.

I will not die today.

“It’s really for the best that I take you out now, don’t you think? It’s so much more merciful than letting the dragons have at you. They’ll start to eat you leg by rickety leg while you’re still alive. Come on,” he cajoles. “It will be my pleasure to help you out.” “The fuck you will,” I mutter.

Even the blanket on his bed is simple, rider black, as if he might forget why he’s here while sleeping.

“Why, Dain Aetos.” I grin and walk toward him, then grasp the door handle at his side. “You’ve seen me in swimwear, tunics, and even ballgowns. Are you telling me it’s the leather that does it for you?” He scoffs, but there’s a slight flush to his cheeks as his hand covers mine to open the door. “Glad to see our year apart hasn’t dulled your tongue, Vi.”

“Oh,” I toss over my shoulder as we walk into the hallway, “I can do quite a few things with my tongue. You’d be impressed.”

I’m pretty sure they’d eat us all and be done. But they like protecting the Vale—the valley behind Basgiath the dragons call home—from merciless gryphons and we like living, so here we are in the most unlikely of partnerships.

“Let me guess, you could smell my perfume. Isn’t that what always gives the heroine away in books?” He scoffs. “I command shadows, but sure, it was your perfume that gave you away.” He lowers the knife and steps away.

“What, Aetos hasn’t warned you not to get caught alone in the dark with me yet?”

“I’m more dangerous than you think,” I flat-out bluster. “So I see. I’m quaking in my boots.” The corner of his mouth rises into a mocking smirk. Fucking. Asshole.

“Fascinating. You look all frail and breakable, but you’re really a violent little thing, aren’t you?”

“Now, get back to bed before your wingleader realizes you’re out after curfew.” “What?” I gawk after him. “You’re my wingleader!”

“Why, Dain Aetos! Are you asking me about my sex life?”

“No!” He shakes his head, then pauses in thought. “I mean…is there a sex life to ask about?”

After all, bonding makes you a rider, but resurrecting someone from the dead? Now, that makes you a god. I somehow don’t think that Malek takes kindly to a mortal treading on his territory.”

I unsheathe both daggers from my ribs and flick them in his direction in one smooth movement. They land right where I intended—one nearly nicking his ear and the other an inch beneath his balls. Fear widens his eyes. I shamelessly grin and wiggle my fingers in a wave.

“I’m happy to step in.” That voice. That tone. That prickle of ice along my scalp… Oh no. Hell no. No. No. No. “You sure?” Professor Emetterio asks, glancing over his shoulder. “Absolutely.” My stomach hits the floor. And Xaden walks onto the mat.

“Going for blood today, are we, Violence?” he whispers. Metal hits the mat again and he kicks it past my head and out of my reach. He’s not taking my daggers to use against me; he’s disarming me just to prove he can. My blood boils. “My name is Violet,” I seethe. “I think my version fits you better.” He releases my wrist and stands, offering me a hand. “We’re not done yet.”

“And be denied the pleasure of your company?” he mocks. “I fucking hate you.” The words are past my lips before I can shut my mouth. “That doesn’t make you special.”

myself, and yet, here I am, getting all attracted. I have been since the first second I saw him, if I feel like being honest.

“Kidneys are a good fit from this angle, too.” I swallow, refusing to think of other things that are a good fit at this angle.

“He said to watch out for those giant posts jutting from the side of the cliff. They spin, and you can get crushed between them if you’re not fast enough.” “Oh, good, I was wondering when it might get difficult,” Rhiannon mutters.

Dain would more than take exception to Tynan’s assumptions and probably assign him cleanup duty for a month. Good thing he’s on the flight field this time of day. Xaden would just beat the shit out of him.

“Look, are you going to kill me or not? The anticipation is starting to annoy the fuck out of me.”

“Haven’t decided yet,” he answers, like I’ve just inquired about his dinner preferences, but his gaze narrows on my cheek. “Well, could you?” I mutter. “It would definitely help me make my plans for the week.” Markham or Emetterio. Scribe or rider.

“Am I affecting your schedule, Violence?” There’s a definite smirk on those lips. “I just need to know what my chances are here.” My hands curl into fists. The ass has the nerve to smile. “That’s the oddest way I’ve ever been hit on—” “Not my chances with you, you conceited prick!” Fuck this. Fuck all of this. I move past him, but he catches my wrist, his grip light but his hold firm.

“I wouldn’t care if it was like that,” she replies under her breath. “He’s hot. He has that whole boy-next-door-who-can-still-kick-your-ass vibe going for him.” I fight a smile because she’s right. He so does.

“You have to get out of here!” I hiss from the cover of the trees, knowing it should be able to hear me. “They’re going to kill you if you don’t leave!” Its head pivots toward me, then tilts at an angle that makes my own neck hurt. “Yes!” I whisper loudly. “You! Goldie!” It blinks its golden eyes and swishes its tail. You have to be fucking kidding me. “Go! Run! Fly!” I shoo at it, then remember it’s a godsdamned dragon, capable of shredding me with its claws alone, and drop my hands. This is not going well. It’s going the opposite of well.

“If you can fly, now would be a good time,” I shout over my shoulder at the small dragon, drawing two daggers from the sheaths at my ribs.

The dragon chuffs. So helpful.

“I would strongly recommend you rethink your actions,” a voice—his voice—demands from across the field to my right. My scalp prickles as each of our heads swivel in his direction. Xaden is leaning against the tree, his arms folded across his chest, and behind him, watching with narrowed golden eyes, her fangs exposed, is Sgaeyl, his terrifying navy-blue daggertail.

I’m going to have an audience for my death. Fantastic. So much for hope.

“So I guess that’s a no on the flying?” I toss over my shoulder again, and the golden dragon chuffs low in its throat in response. “Great. Well, if you can back me up with those claws, I’d really appreciate it.”

It chuffs twice, and I spare a glance down at its claws. Or should I say…paws. “Oh, fucking hell. You don’t have any claws?”

“Get on my back.” Oh. Shit. He’s choosing…me. “Get on your back?” I repeat like a fucking parrot. “Have you seen you? Do you have any idea how huge you are?” I’d need a damned ladder to get up there. The look he gives me can only be described as annoyance. “One does not live a century without being well aware of the space one takes up. Now get on.”

“My name is Tairneanach, son of Murtcuideam and Fiaclanfuil, descended from the cunning Dubhmadinn line.” He stands to his full height, bringing me eye level with the canopy of trees around the clearing, and I squeeze a little tighter with my thighs. “But I’m not going to assume that you’ll be able to remember that once we reach the field, so Tairn will do until I inevitably have to remind you.”

“You’re making us look bad. Stop it.”

“It’s not like it’s easy to stay on your back when you’re doing acrobatics!” I shout up.

He glances down at me, and I swear the ridge above his eye arches. “Simple flight is hardly acrobatics.” “There is absolutely nothing simple about you!” I wrap my arms around the knuckles of his claws, noting that his sharp talons are draped harmlessly around the sides of my body. He’s huge, but he’s also careful as he flies us along the mountain. He’s one of the deadliest dragons in Navarre.

“Now get in the seat and actually hold on this time, or no one is going to believe that I’ve actually chosen you,” he growls.

“I still can’t believe you’ve chosen me!” I

“You’re going to have to strengthen your legs. Didn’t you practice?” Indignation ripples up my spine. “Of course I practiced!” “There’s no need to shout. I can hear you just fine. The entire mountain can probably hear you.”

“Grip harder with your knees. I can barely feel you back there.” “I’m trying.”

“We’re going to have to put on a show.” “Awesome.” The idea is anything but. “You will not fall. I will not allow it.”